I went to see a storyteller at the library yesterday. He’s a storyteller, and he makes a living at it. That little fact to me is far more riveting than any of the stories he told.<\/p>\n
Which is not to say that his stories were not riveting. But the idea of getting paid to tell stories stretches the world of the possible for me.<\/p>\n
Maybe I lack faith. I feel like I have been dangling my feet off the high dive for a long time. I want to take the leap off, to trust the my talents as a writer, as a creative person, will be the water to catch me.<\/p>\n
But I really believe that jumping off will kill me. I believe that if I let go of the stable, traditional job, I will be homeless and hungry.<\/p>\n
So I sit, with my feet dangling over the edge, looking at the water below. FAR below. Sometimes, I see people run past me and leap off the high dive. They plunge into the water and are fine. But I can’t believe that the water would be there for me.<\/p>\n
Like last night. Joel ben Izzy, professional storyteller, jumping off the high dive every day. Doing cannonballs, jackknives, perfect tens. Makes me drool with envy.<\/p>\n
I wonder if my water might be there after all.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I went to see a storyteller at the library yesterday. He’s a storyteller, and he makes a living at it. That little fact to me is far more riveting than any of the stories he told. Which is not to … Continue reading